


the space in between

by captainharkness



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Appropriate Use Of Low Budget Sci-Fi Films, Caretaking, Coping, Crack - probably, Fade to Black, Flirting, Fluff, Implied Pydian, Kidnapping, Multi, Psychological Trauma, what is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainharkness/pseuds/captainharkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jordan knew enough that Lydia didn't want to go back to hers after she and Stiles were kidnapped. Scott came and retrieved his best friend, while Lydia gave Jordan instructions to the one place she needed to be. After everything that had happened, all the madness and new revelations, really, this was probably the least shocking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the space in between

Lydia was still shaking when she stumbled into the loft. She could feel the dry tears on her face, the bruises on her wrists from the constraints, the phantom touch of harsh hands. Only the steady grip Parrish had on her arm kept her upright; she wasn't sure she could have even made it to the door without it.

Peter opened the door - well, ‘threw open’ might have been more accurate - before Parrish had the chance to knock, the older man’s eyes already blue with rage, growling loud enough to make her wince.

"Lydia," Peter grabbed her around the waist, dragging her into a tight embrace. Under normal circumstances she would have snapped at him for being rude and forceful, but everything that had happened just felt so raw inside her, she welcomed the familiar warmth of his arms without so much as a sigh, revelling in the hurried rise and fall of his chest against her cheek. Behind her, Parrish cleared his throat awkwardly, and she could hear him shuffling his feet.

"Peter, right?" he said steadily. Peter didn't loosen his embrace, and instead rested his chin on top of her head, fingers splaying across her back in a way that might have been construed as affectionate but she knew was simply possessive. She didn't even have the energy to care.

"Let me guess," he drawled, voice deceptively calm. "you're the pretty new deputy... Parrish?"

"Yes,"

Peter said nothing for a moment, before pulling slightly away from Lydia so he could bring his hands up to cup her face. With more tenderness than he usually displayed in front of anyone else - God forbid her stupid werewolf let anyone know he has feelings - he used his thumbs to wipe away the remnants of her tears. "Now, you, shower, change, I'll put the kettle on," He paused again. "Code nine?"

Lydia gave a weak smile despite everything, "Code nine," Peter beamed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before disappearing off into the kitchen, hopefully to fix her a hot chocolate in the biggest mug in the loft. She turned back to the deputy, still stood in the doorway, looking increasingly more nervous.

"Code nine?" he asked with a half smile.

"It was something me and my friend Allison came up with," she said by way of explanation. "You know, different codes for different emergencies, different food. Code one is bad break-up, Ben & Jerry's."

"You have a code for kidnapping?"

Lydia huffed out a laugh. "Actually, code nine is just trauma. And the biggest, most calorie-laden pizza we can find on a menu." She’d felt like an idiot when she’d explained her and Allison’s system to him, but Peter had only grinned, patted her on the knee and called her a genius. There had been few moments where she had felt such affection him than that.

Parrish smiled too, but tried to hide it with his hand, probably worried about looking too happy in front of a kidnapping victim - understandable. Shaking her head slightly, Lydia stepped forwards, leaning up on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. His face instantly flooded with colour, and his eyes started to dart around as if he didn't know where to look all of a sudden. It was adorable.

"Thank you," she mouthed silently, revelling perhaps a little too much in the redness of his cheeks.

Peter was just coming out of the kitchen when she made her way to the stairs so she could have a hot shower, and when he saw Parrish still stood in the door, his eyes started glowing dangerous again. The blush in Parrish's cheeks immediately dissipated into nothingness as he blanched, and Lydia slapped Peter on the chest.

"Stop it," she snapped. "He’s the one who saved me, God knows where I’d be if he didn’t show up."

With that, she strode past him and up the stairs. The sound of Peter making his way towards the front door made her stop, turning and hiding at the top of the stairs to watch. Or, possibly so she could quickly break up a very one sided fight.

"You saved her?" Peter growled. Just in sight, she saw Parrish's back straighten.

"Yes," he said immediately, blinking quickly as if he were fighting the urge to call him 'sir'.

"Good," With no more words, Peter grabbed the increasingly terrified looking deputy by his head and kissed him. Lydia had to slap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Parrish's hands flailed a bit at first, and he resembled something like a lost puppy, but they came to rest - hesitantly - on Peter's forearms. Lydia watched the entire exchange with a mixture of amusement and what very well may have been the first sparks of arousal because really there was no denying that her boyfriend was incredibly attractive and Parrish looked three different types of innocent and God she'd bet he would fall apart in her hands.

When Peter pulled away, Parrish looked something akin to shell-shocked, mumbling something about "should probably leave" and "hope she's okay", but Peter grabbed him by the arm, dragging him back.

"Oh, no, you don't," he grinned. "we're getting pizza, and you're staying for dinner."

_**~.~.~.~** _

After eating the pizza, (or as Parrish described it, "a big, round heart attack in a box") the three of them fell onto the couch in a slightly over-fed pile of limbs. Peter immediately followed protocol and began searching for a movie to watch.

Lydia sat in the middle, Parrish on her right, Peter on her left. Her hair was still a little damp from the shower and she probably should have stopped three slices before she did but she couldn't find anything wrong with what was happening. She was sandwiched by two lovely men on a sofa after eating twice her body weight in cheese, dough and... actually, she had no idea what was on the pizza, probably everything. Parrish had finally relaxed a little, and was grinning at something Peter had said, noticeably warm through his shirt, pressed up against her.

Without warning, Parrish let out a yelp, reaching across her to grab Peter excitedly, "Mars Attacks!"

"What?" they said simultaneously.

"Mars Attacks," Parrish gaped at them like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's impossible to be sad while watching Mars Attacks."

Peter grinned. "Bad 90's alien movie? The boy's a genius, we're keeping him."

Parrish looked momentarily nervous again, before smiling shyly and removing his arm from where it was still raised across Lydia. He caught her eye, lips still twitching with the urge to grin, and she shook her head, laughing softly. Lydia patted his leg sympathetically, but mostly because she knew he would instantly fall back into being awkward and blushed and not being able to make eye contact without his face turning beetroot red. He did not disappoint.

_**~.~.~.~** _

By the end of the film, Lydia and Peter were on a mission to see just how red Parrish's face could go. She was already cuddled up to him, with her head on his shoulder, legs pressed together, one of her hands resting against his thigh so every movement of her fingers meant her knuckles brushed against him and he shivered and cleared his throat. Peter had made several passing comments to him that had nearly had him choking on his own tongue, and the deputy looked well and truly conflicted by the time the credits rolled.

"I feel like we need drinks," Peter announced suddenly. "Lydia, be a dear and help."

Faced with the prospect of sitting alone in their living room, Parrish looked noticeably nervous. He looked damn near edible.

Lydia extracted herself from his side with a half smile that sent the blush down his neck and into his shirt, and she almost laughed with triumph. In the kitchen, Peter already had two beers and a can of coke on the side, but was grinning like all his Christmas' had come at once.

"What?"

"You can't smell it," he beamed. "but I can."

"Smell what?" she whispered.

Peter leant in slowly, a teasing smile playing on his lips, "How turned on he is."

_**~.~.~.~** _

They were ten minutes into a documentary about great white sharks - upon the advert for Shark Week coming on, both Peter and Parrish yelled "Shark Week!" excitedly, reminding Lydia that Peter probably needed to get out of the house more - Stiles called her. She excused herself to go into the kitchen to speak to him.

She's been so caught up in the fun of just hanging out with Peter and Parrish, she had almost forgotten about the day. Part of her wanted to scream down the phone until Stiles' ears bled, but part of her understood. He'd been kidnapped too, after all.

They stayed on the phone for a bit before she walked back into the living room.

"...right, yeah," she said absently, getting ready to see how far up Parrish's thigh she could put her hand before he said something. "I'll call you tomorr- _holy shit_."

"Lydia?" Stiles said, panic as evident in his voice as it was on the deputy's face. Peter had him pushed up against the wall, pinned by his hips, supporting himself with one hand on the wall and the other cupping the younger man's face. Parrish was scrambling to get out from between Peter and the wall, lips swollen and red and a very obvious bulge in his trousers.

"Oh, it's... nothing, Stiles, don't worry," she finally said, taking the scene in while listening to Stiles threaten to phone the police. Ironic, really. "I'll call you tomorrow." Looking at the screen of her phone, she sighed. "Really, Peter? Eleven minutes?"

"I got bored of waiting for you," Peter shrugged, letting his hand fall from the wall, running a finger across Parrish's jaw before stepping away, “Apparently, so did he.”

"I can-" Parrish started, raising his hands in surrender. "I'll go, I just... I'm sorry, I didn't-"

Peter beamed, "Lydia, you're scaring him."

She ignored the deputy's panicked ramblings, and instead turned her gaze on her boyfriend, who was looking far too smug for his own good, "I can't even leave you alone for five minutes without you trying to sleep with him? Self control, sweetheart, it's a virtue."

He scowled, "You know me better than that."

"What is going on?"

They both looked at Parrish, who was standing poker straight against the wall, hands still raised, face snow white at he looked from Peter to Lydia and back again. Despite the fact he looked like he was calculating if he would survive the fall from the kitchen window, he looked magnificent; lips still red and swollen and half open as he panted, chest heaving up and down as he struggled to take a breath, hair messed and sticking up all over the place as if someone had ran their fingers through it. Lydia knew from experience how quickly Peter could turn someone to a fumbling pile of limbs and need and lust, and was quite happy that a domestic life hadn't lessened his skills.

"I hate to state the obvious, sweetheart, but I think Peter might have a bit of a crush on you" Lydia smirked, making Peter turn to her with his hand on his heart, looking hurt.

"Me?" he gasped, scandalised, "You're the one who has been seeing how much you can grope him for the last hour and a half."

"Wha-?"

Lydia glared, "That is a _complete_ exaggeration."

The staring match that ensued left Parrish gaping at them like they were both insane, hands still raised like he feared for his life.

"Should I-" He broke off when both Lydia and Peter turned to look at him, but steeled himself, swallowing heavily, "Should I leave? Like, I can leave if that's..."

Peter gave a lazy smile, stepping backwards, "You can leave. We're not keeping you here, are we?"

The deputy swallowed again, his throat bobbing up and down, and began slowly walking towards the door. Peter gave her a smirk behind his back as they watched him walk between them as if doing so might result in bodily harm. Lydia followed him.

"Although, I suppose the question really is," she drawled, making him stop and turn slightly, "do you _want_ to leave?"

Parrish’s eyes flickered from Lydia to Peter, and just for a second, his irises glowed orange, the colour of hot embers. Lydia could almost feel Peter’s intrigue from across the room, could see that Parrish had no idea how he’d given himself away.

It only took a moment for him to speak, “Does that mean you’re offering a chance to stay?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Will I add on an extra chapter of pure smut? Possibly, but I found this in my 'unfinished' folder yesterday, so I polished it up a bit and posted it. If I get the muse to add a bit on, then I very well may do, but for now, let's revel in this beautiful little fade-to-black.


End file.
